


Cleansed By Fire

by FleetSparrow



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Rape Aftermath, Rape Aftermath - unwilling witness has intrusive sexual thoughts about victim, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:01:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23490568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleetSparrow/pseuds/FleetSparrow
Summary: After Bruce was unable to save Dick from attack, he brings Dick back to the manor for treatment.  Once there, Dick asks for something Bruce shouldn't give him.  But Bruce can never resist Dick.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 2
Kudos: 86
Collections: Smut 4 Smut 2020





	Cleansed By Fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kmfillz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kmfillz/gifts).



> A treat for you!

The tape arrived in the mail addressed to Bruce Wayne at the penthouse. The handwritten title read “Bird Watching”. Bruce had been the one to get the mail that day, Alfred being out shopping at the time, and so, alone, he popped the tape into the player in the main room.

The video opened on a mostly empty room, only a covered lump in the center of the screen. This played for about two minutes. Just as Bruce reached to turn off the tape, the sound of voices filled the room. Masked men entered the scene, one of them pulling the sheet off a huddled figure.

It was Nightwing.

Bruce leaned forward, his breath catching in his throat. His detective mind went into full effect as he studied the men, their body language, their clothes, the sounds of their voices. He was so focused on who was involved that it took him a moment to realize exactly what they were doing to Dick.

They had stripped him and had him down on his hands and knees, binding them together by long ropes. A gag was tied around his head, and Dick growled something muffled at the men around him. They just laughed. Bruce’s nails dug into his palms as the men undid their pants and pulled out their cocks. The gag was removed and, just as quickly, one of the men stuffed his cock into Dick’s mouth. Obscene noises filled the room as another man penetrated Dick, making him cry out.

Bruce couldn’t take his eyes off the screen as they fucked Dick over and over. Shame washed over him as sparks of arousal shot through him at the sight. Dick’s lips were red and swollen, his face flushed, his own cock hard and untouched. Bruce knew he should fast forward to the end of the tape, to see what state they had left Dick in, to make sure he was even still alive, but he couldn’t bring himself to move.

One of the men yanked off Dick’s mask and ordered Dick to look at him. Dick’s eyes were bright and wet, his face streaked with drool, tears, and cum. Finally, the men finished, leaving Dick naked and bruised on the ground. The tape stayed focused on Dick until, with a slight jarring of the camera, it shut off.

Bruce remained seated, staring at the static on the TV, images of Dick seared into his memory, and a shameful erection in his pants. Thoughts rushed through his mind, questions shuffling around amid fantasies of Dick in Bruce’s bed, looking as debauched as he had by the end of the tape. One question popped to the top of his addled thoughts: where was Dick now? The tape had come with nothing, no ransom note, no instructions, nothing. No clues.

Bruce shook his head to clear it. There were plenty of clues available. The room in which they’d filmed. The background sounds of the city to tease out of the audio track. The writing on the tape and, thankfully, on the envelope as well. This is what Bruce had to focus on if he wanted to get Dick back safely. Slowly, the images of Dick faded, along with his erection. He had to concentrate. He had to focus. He had to become Batman.

Barely remembering to leave a note for Alfred, Bruce took the tape and envelope and left for the Batcave. He needed to be alone to deal with this. For Dick’s sake, he reminded himself. Not for his own.

Three hours later, Batman was out in the city, racing towards the warehouse district where he’d pinpointed the sounds from the video. He walked between the warehouses, listening carefully to the sound each one made. There had been a high whistling in the background of the tape, the sound of wind through broken glass. It took nearly another hour, but finally, he found it. Praying that Dick was still there, he entered the warehouse.

It was dark. Batman switched to his night vision lenses and shut the door behind him. The moon was high and the sky was clear for once, letting enough light into the warehouse to be able to make out the furniture within it. Something was crumpled on the floor: Nightwing’s suit. Batman collected it, moving through the warehouse, looking for other clues. At the very back of the warehouse was a body in a chair. His heart in his throat, Batman moved closer.

It was Dick. He was naked and bound to the chair, but he was breathing and not bleeding. Carefully, Batman untied him, wrapping Dick’s costume around him for some level of covering, and carried him outside. He should have driven Dick to the penthouse for care from Alfred, but he found himself driving all the way out to the Bristol suburbs and the Batcave.

He kept his cowl on as he cleaned up Dick and swabbed him for DNA, something concrete to find who had done this to him. He didn’t trust himself to let go of Batman just yet, with Dick in such a vulnerable state. He’d never really thought of Dick as his own sexual being, not consciously, at least. But now, with Dick naked on the medical table beside him, he found himself distracted by thoughts of the tape, of what had happened to Dick, and—curse his own weakness—how much he wanted to see Dick like this.

He laid a sheet over Dick, continuing to distance himself until the intrusive thoughts went away. His nerves steeled, and the computer already whirring as it ran its tests, Batman woke Dick.

Dick’s eyes were bloodshot as he looked up at Batman, and his mouth worked silently until he managed a whispered, “Bruce?”

He swallowed and removed the cowl. “I’m here, Dick,” he said, taking Dick’s hand.

Dick closed his eyes and nodded. “Good.”

“Can you sit up?”

Dick inhaled and forced himself upright, wavering a little until Bruce put gloved hands on him to stabilize him. Dick opened his eyes again. “My throat hurts.”

“I’ll make you something hot,” Bruce said. “Can you talk, or should I get it now?”

Dick shook his head. “It can wait. I’m OK.”

Bruce pressed his lips together, fighting the images from the tape from resurfacing. “Are you?”

Dick looked at him, his eyes bluer than Bruce remembered. But then, it had been a long time since he’d last seen Dick in person. “Not really, but I’ll get there.”

“What happened?”

“It was an ambush.” Dick told Bruce the whole story just the way he’d been taught to give a patrol report, with a certain level of detachment from the whole thing. Bruce wondered how much of it was his training and how much he was trying to keep it together.

“We should try to keep you awake,” Bruce said. “In case of a concussion.”

Dick nodded. “Do you, um, have any spare clothes for me? All my stuff’s at my place.”

Of course. Dick couldn’t get back into his suit to sleep or to go back out. And he shouldn’t go out again tonight, not without recovering.

“You can use anything of mine,” Bruce said, pointedly _not_ thinking about Dick wearing his clothes in his current state. “I’m going to head back out.”

“Stay?”

Bruce looked back at Dick, his cowl halfway up, and froze. Dick looked so…vulnerable, his eyes wide, his lips parted slightly. Instantly, Bruce’s mind was running through images of Dick, telling him he should stay and look after him. After all, didn’t he care for Dick? Wasn’t he supposed to protect him? Dick may not have been Robin anymore, be he was still his partner, even if they’d been apart for so long.

Bruce let the cowl slip from his fingers. “Of course, Dick.”

Tension eased out of Dick’s shoulders and his lips turned up in a small smile. “Thanks.”

Bruce just nodded, swallowing thickly. “Come on. Let’s get you upstairs.”

Bruce took Dick’s suit, handing Dick his cape for coverage, and, after removing what he could from it, left it to be cleaned, and followed Dick up to the manor. It was dark and dusty from being shut up, but he knew he’d left clothes in the closet when he moved into the penthouse. They dressed in silence, Dick excusing himself to the bathroom.

Out of his costume, Bruce felt ill at ease. He should’ve taken Dick back to the penthouse once they dressed, but now he was thinking about staying here in the manor. It wasn’t that the drive was long, except that it might lull Dick to sleep. He should’ve called Alfred to come out here and take care of Dick, but a deep part of him regretted how much time they’d lost over the years of separation. He should be the one to care for Dick after what had happened.

“Dick?” he said, knocking on the bathroom door. “I’m going to make you something to drink. Will you be OK alone for a few minutes?”

“Yeah,” Dick said, his voice muffled by the door. “I’ll take a quick shower.”

“OK. I’ll be right back.”

An awkward silence hung in the air for a moment before Bruce headed down to the kitchen. Everything was just as it should be, and he started up the coffeemaker. Down here, away from Dick, he had time to think, to ruminate. How much were they in danger right now? If the men had been watching the warehouse, they might have put together that Batman showed up to get Dick Grayson, not the police. Since they had unmasked him in the video, they knew who Dick was, and so they knew Bruce was the man to send this to. But did they know he was Batman? Or did they just think Dick was some superhero fetishist, out for a night in a costume that wasn’t his? With any luck for the both of them and their allies, it would be the latter. But Bruce wasn’t so sure.

The coffee made, Bruce poured two cups and carried them upstairs back to his bedroom. Dick was sitting on the bed, wearing one of Bruce’s button-downs and nothing else. Bruce swallowed against the lump that suddenly formed in his throat at the sight.

“Coffee,” he said, thickly.

“Thanks,” Dick said as he took his cup. “I guess I’ve gotta stay up for a while, huh?”

“A few more hours, just until we’re sure. I’ll check you over in a little bit,” Bruce said, immediately regretting his choice of words. Dick, mercifully, didn’t seem to notice.

Bruce settled on the bed beside Dick, leaning up against the headboard. “How do you feel?” he asked, once Dick had drank some of his coffee.

“Better, now that I’m clean again,” Dick said. He leaned back until his head thunked lightly against the headboard. “How did you know where to find me?”

Bruce hesitated, taking a sip of coffee to disguise his discomfort. “They sent a video of…what happened.”

“To who?” Dick asked. “I saw the camera, but I didn’t think they’d send….” He trailed off.

“They sent it to me at the penthouse.”

Dick nodded, staring into his coffee cup. “I see. That’s why you wanted to go back out, to track them down. I shouldn’t have stopped you.”

“No, Dick,” Bruce said, his voice slightly too loud. “I—I should stay with you. You need looking after.”

Dick looked over at him, then dropped his gaze back to his cup. “Thank you.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, neither of them sure what to say next. Dick finished his coffee and set it on the bedside table, settling back on the bed. Bruce couldn’t keep his eyes off Dick’s legs. His gaze traced them up and down the bed, mapping their scars, eyeing where the bottom of his shirt— _his_ shirt—grazed the tops of Dick’s thighs. He closed his eyes only for the image of Dick down on his hands and knees to flood his vision. His memory played over and over the scenes of Dick being fucked, the slide of his lips along a cock, the jerk of his hips as he was plowed.

The bed dipped and suddenly Dick’s hand was hot on his shoulder. Bruce snapped himself to attention, jarring the cup in his hands.

“Hey, easy,” Dick said, staring at Bruce with wide eyes. “I thought maybe you’d dozed off.”

Bruce set down his cup before he spilled the dregs of his coffee on either of them. “No, Dick, I was just…lost in thought.”

Dick nodded, as though somehow that was a good enough excuse. “Do you mind if I stay here the night? I don’t feel like being alone.”

_You can stay here forever,_ Bruce thought, greedily. He pushed that down. “Of course, Dick.”

Dick smiled and settled back down on the bed, the shirt riding up just a touch as he did. Dick didn’t seem to be aware of it and rested his head on Bruce’s shoulder.

“Bruce?”

“Yes, Dick?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” Bruce said, trying to keep his gaze from wandering down to Dick’s groin and the— _oh god_ —flash of skin he could see between Dick’s legs.

“I’ve been thinking,” Dick began. “I’ve missed having a partner, lately. Do you—I mean, have you missed it, too?”

“Yes, Dick. I’ve—I’ve missed it.” _Missed_ you, Bruce bit back.

Dick hummed softly in agreement, and wrapped an arm around Bruce’s chest, nearly laying on him as he hugged him. Bruce stiffened. Dick had always been more physically affectionate than Bruce; it was how he’d been raised, contrary to Bruce. But this felt different. He couldn’t get out of his head how much he liked this easy affection from Dick, and how much he wanted to do more than just be held. He should’ve pushed Dick away, gently, without rejecting him, but firmly.

But Bruce was weak.

He glanced down at the inside of Dick’s thigh, visible through the part of the shirt, and shut his eyes again. He had to be strong, for Dick’s sake. He had already lost this battle with himself, he couldn’t lose it for Dick.

Dick pulled away—finally!—and his arm dropped, accidentally brushing Bruce’s groin. Dick pulled his hand back sharply, his breath hitching. Bruce knew why. He should have pushed Dick away sooner, shouldn’t have been thinking about Dick in this way to begin with, but he was weak. And so Dick had accidentally felt his erection.

“Dick,” he began, not entirely sure where he would go once he started.

“How…how long was the tape?” Dick asked.

Bruce blinked in surprise at the question. “It caught everything.”

“And you watched it?”

_I shouldn’t have._ “I did.”

“How many times?”

_Too many._ “Enough to isolate the audio. My focus was on finding you.”

And hadn’t that been a mistake, taking out the visuals? He could hear everything and connect his own fantasies to it. And he had, oh, how he had.

“Of course,” Dick said. There was something in his clipped tone that made Bruce look at him, and that was his biggest mistake of the day.

Dick’s eyes were dark, almost hungry, not angry, as he’d expected. Dick reached out and laid his hand on Bruce’s covered cock.

“I don’t want to remember what happened right now,” Dick said, not moving, not letting Bruce look away. “Help me forget?”

He should’ve said no. He should’ve pulled away and went to sleep in a guest room. He should’ve ordered Dick to go to his own room. He should’ve gone down to the Batcave. He should’ve gone out on patrol. He should’ve. He should’ve. He should’ve.

He didn’t.

Bruce touched Dick’s bare thigh and suddenly Dick was straddling him, kissing him, and, oh god!, what a feeling. An ache Bruce didn’t even realize he’d had released as he grabbed Dick’s waist, letting Dick grind on him. Dick moaned into his mouth and it was enough to coax out a moan of his own. He dropped a hand to Dick’s bare ass and, in a moment, had flipped them over, pinning Dick to the bed. He kissed along Dick’s jaw down his neck and, his hands fumbling, undid the shirt buttons to reveal Dick’s chest. Dick groaned as Bruce trailed kisses down his chest, baring Dick to him. Dick was flushed, his face and upper chest a light red. Bruce looked Dick over and growled, his cock growing harder.

He moved down the bed until he was level with Dick’s cock. Like a man in a trance, he lowered himself down, taking Dick’s cock into his mouth. Dick gasped and arched off the bed, moaning high in his throat. Bruce bobbed his head, swirling his tongue as if trying to memorize every inch of Dick. Maybe he was, just in case this was the first and last time he could ever do this. Dick pushed himself up and bent over Bruce, short nails scratching lines up his back through his shirt.

Dick fell back onto the bed again, and Bruce pulled off of him. He stood to remove his pants, trying not to act like the horny teenager he felt like. Dick looked beautiful spread out before him like this, and he could barely take his eyes off him. Dick met his eyes and smiled and Bruce had to remind himself to breathe, to not just take him right there like some sort of animal.

Dick sat up and climbed to the end of the bed, slipping off it in front of Bruce. Bruce had finally managed to get the pajama pants he wore untied, but Dick’s hands stopped him from doing anything else. Carefully, almost painfully slowly, Dick pulled out Bruce’s cock and stroked it. Bruce’s breath went ragged for a moment, trying to keep himself from losing it. Dick looked up at Bruce, silently asking for permission. Bruce fisted his hand in Dick’s hair and nodded.

Dick groaned as he sucked Bruce’s cock, sending vibrations through it to the pit in Bruce’s stomach. Dick sucked him like he’d done this before, and Bruce was hit with a flash of possessive jealousy for whoever had had Dick before, up to and including those strangers on the tape. Dick took him deeper and Bruce couldn’t help himself, thrusting into Dick’s open throat. Dick moaned and tapped out ‘yes’ in Morse code on Bruce’s thigh. Permission granted, Bruce placed both hands on Dick’s head and fucked his mouth.

The room echoed with the obscene sounds coming from Dick’s mouth, the slap of skin as Bruce’s balls hit his chin, and Bruce’s own grunts and groans. He fucked Dick’s face relentlessly, watching Dick carefully to make sure he wasn’t hurting him. Dick looked up at him, his eyes wet, but blissful-looking. Bruce felt his balls tighten and he forced Dick down to the root, almost doubling over him as orgasm hit him. Dick swallowed around him, drinking him down.

Bruce pulled his cock out of Dick’s mouth with a pop, both of them panting hard. Dick dropped his head back to the bed, his own cock painfully hard.

“Dick,” Bruce whispered, wiping wetness from Dick’s face. Dick looked up at him rapturously, only a hint of strain around his eyes. Bruce leaned down and picked Dick up, sitting him back on the bed.

“Bruce,” Dick said, his voice hoarse.

Bruce kissed him. “Let me.”

Dick braced himself on the bed and nodded. Bruce got down on his knees and took Dick’s cock into his mouth once again. It didn’t take long for Dick to finish, coming with a gasp. Bruce pulled off of him, cum splashing his face as he did. Dick’s cheeks were red and he smiled sheepishly, using Bruce’s shirt to clean him up.

Bruce stood and picked Dick up, tossing him gently back up the bed. Dick grinned and reached out for him. Bruce climbed on top of him, letting Dick pull him down into a kiss. Bruce broke the kiss to look Dick over, a lesser wave of arousal shooting through him at the sight of Dick’s nakedness wrapped up in one of his shirts.

But he shouldn’t have, a voice reminded him. He shouldn’t have done any of this. His face fell and he made to get off of Dick. Dick grabbed his arm.

“What is it?”

“I shouldn’t have,” Bruce said. “I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you.”

Dick frowned. “You didn’t. I wanted to, Bruce.”

“Even after—?”

“Yes. I told you, I don’t want to think about it.” Dick pressed a finger to Bruce’s lips. “Don’t ruin this, Bruce. Sometimes we can have something good, OK? Please.”

And then Bruce did what he definitely should not have. He looked into Dick’s eyes, that pleading, vulnerable gaze, and he lost his will once more. He scooped Dick up and rolled them over, letting Dick rest on his chest.

“OK, Dick. I won’t say anything more.”

Dick laid his head over Bruce’s heart. “It was good, though, right?”

“Oh, Dick. It was wonderful.”

Dick smiled and kissed Bruce’s chest. “Good. Now you can keep me awake all night.”

Bruce growled low in his throat. “Be careful with what you wish for, Dick.”

Dick laughed. “I can take you.”

Bruce squeezed him. “I’m sure you can.”


End file.
